


Sunset Snippets

by Yaomi



Series: Sunset [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3673842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaomi/pseuds/Yaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from my story Sunset.  Can stand alone.  #1: In their happily ever after, Percy has a not-so-typical morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Thank you, J.K. Rowling, for creating a world that I could get lost in and characters that I have come to love.

* * *

 

“Get back in bed,” Percy grumbled, words an incoherent mess. He felt Oliver pause before warm lips brushed over his temple, the only part of his body not smothered by their comforter. Fingers ran lightly over his hair and then Oliver was gone.

The door made a soft click as it was shut, and Percy burrowed himself even further, letting the muffled noise of Oliver moving around in the next room lull him back into a doze. It was in the silence of a Sunday morning an undetermined amount of time later that Percy slowly became aware of a world outside his warm bed and soft dreams.

As with any other morning, his eyes would be the first to struggle awake in a slow blink while the rest of his body remained still, heavy and languid. Mind completely clear, he would briefly stare at whatever fell into his line of sight (his second favorite mornings being when that was Oliver). Then came the unconscious drum of his fingers over the mattress before he would pull his arm back in and under him as he fought the need to wake by burying his face directly into the pillow and groaning. Eventually, he'd turn to stare at the opposite wall before attempting a sitting position. That done and another bout of staring and he'd drag himself out of bed, nearly taking the entire comforter with him (woe to the morning Oliver would sleep late) in his trek to the bathroom.

He could never wrap his mind around how Oliver could just wake up and roll out of bed. The few times he'd had to do so out of necessity, he wound up running into the wall or knocking over the lamp, and once ended up slithering down to the floor where he stayed until Oliver found him. He didn't stop laughing until Percy grabbed him by the back of the knee and yanked. Neither one had made it to work on time that morning.

But in this morning, with the beginning of his morning ritual complete, he found himself glaring down at the comforter innocently laying on the floor as if it had been the one to force him from its embrace. He stumbled to the door and into the hall, tempted by the smell of the coffee Oliver would put on for him before his morning run.

With the promising start of a typical morning, he wasn't expecting for his foot to hit something on his way to the kitchen. He watched in startled bewilderment as a small object went skittering down the hall and into the living room. He hesitated and then went after it, spotting the unusual (with the trepidation Oliver would never experience growing up an only child) by the side of the chair. Kneeling down, he gently picked it up, the cheap plastic of a little purple egg opening in his hand to reveal a toffee.

The front door unlocked and Oliver was there, all sunshine and bright smiles, sweaty and wonderful, eyes latching onto where Percy knelt, egg and toffee in the process of a careful scrutiny. “You found one,” he quipped cheerfully, striding forward to drop a quick kiss on Percy's lips.

Percy's comprehension skills were much slower to rise in the morning, and it took him a moment, but when it hit. “One?” He turned his head this way and that, and sure enough there was another one, a little yellow egg, sitting on top of the coffee machine.

He sat there on the floor for a moment as Oliver moved to the kitchen, taking the time to scan the room suspiciously as if expecting brightly colored eggs to come rolling out of the woodwork to drown them in candy. But there were no eggs in sight besides the first two culprits and he cast Oliver an imposing glance. “How many are there?” he asked.

Oliver took a sip of his water, leaned back against the kitchen counter, and grinned.


	2. Snuggles

Disclaimer: Thank you, J.K. Rowling, for creating a world I could get lost in and characters that I have come to love.

* * *

 

Percy couldn't sleep. Oliver could tell because while Percy had switched sides twice (accompanied by quiet sighs), he had made no other movements. Percy was not a quiet sleeper. He liked to shift, a foot here, an arm there, until he had made his way from sleeping beside Oliver to sleeping practically on top of him. He was a snuggler, and Percy definitely was not snuggling tonight. His arms were curled up to his chest and he was facing the window, and Oliver was sure that if he could see his face, Percy's pretty brown eyes would be open.

None of this came as a surprise tonight to Oliver though. Percy had been on edge all day, restless from the moment he came home, going from his laptop to his papers to his current book of the week and then to staring out at the sky. Oliver wondered if it was an anniversary of something. Percy never talked much about his past. Oliver knew that he had grown up in a small house with a big family, that his mom liked to cook, that his eldest brother was Bill (he had sent a Christmas card), and that his only sister was named Ginny. He knew there were twins in the family, but he didn't know if Ginny was a twin, or Bill, or how many siblings Percy had exactly.

It could also be something not family related. In the time he had known him, Percy really never talked about anything in his past. Nothing about any of his old friends or his childhood dreams. The past was off limits (not so much as said but understood as Percy always got very quiet whenever Oliver asked). Until Percy was ready to open up to himself and to Oliver, Oliver would hold the little tidbits that would slip out close to his heart that gave some insight into the bright and beautiful, funny and intelligent man that he knew today.

But back to the present and just as predicted, Oliver heard the telltale shift of Percy slowly begin his creep out of bed. He let him go. He even let Percy believe that he was still asleep. To stop Percy now would be to subject himself to reassurances (that aren't very reassuring) and insists to stay in bed (Percy's not very good at taking no for an answer). Oliver preferred to skip that step by giving Percy the few minutes that he needed.

Not too many minutes though, and Oliver slipped out of bed and down the hall while Percy's side was still warm. He found Percy curled up on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a closed book in his hands.

“I didn't mean to wake you,” Percy said, not breaking his stare. He spoke softly, as though the lateness of the night had set the requirement of nothing louder than a murmur.

“You didn't,” Oliver said, smiling gently at him. “Would you like some tea?” He didn't wait for an answer but went to the kitchen to prepare it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Percy's soft smile, his eyes warming like the flicker of a candle. When Oliver came back and set the steeping tea on the coffee table, Percy pulled him onto the couch with him. In fumblings and quiet laughter, they settled down with Percy on top of Oliver, snuggled into his warmth and smiling into his shoulder.

“I love you,” Percy said, followed by a yawn and a melting of his limbs to fit into Oliver's arms like he was made for them.

Oliver pulled the afghan over them and wrapped his arms around Percy before giving into the giddy grin that wouldn't stay down as he buried his face in Percy's hair. Surrounded by warmth and love and the smell of tea in the air, he allowed himself to follow Percy into dreams.

 


End file.
